


Nolite Te Bastardes Carburondorum

by Euphras1a



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Grief/Mourning, How Do I Tag, Oxford, Pre-Canon, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 04:53:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphras1a/pseuds/Euphras1a
Summary: Exploring Henrys time at Oxford
Comments: 14
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first time actually posting anything so please let me know if there is anything that needs fixing. I'm currently writing this in avoidance of admitting how far insomnia has taken over my life so it should be updating rather regularly. Please let me know of any spelling / grammar errors (my dyslexic brain is bad enough on a good day) or just any criticism in general would be welcome.

October 5th 2015  
As Henry walked into the courtyard he couldn’t help but feel as if he didn’t belong. Here he was at Oxford, one of the most prestigious universities in the world, having broken the family tradition of going to Cambridge, but it didn’t quite feel real. Phillip stood stiffly by his side. They were surrounded by four PPO officers, families of other freshers had by now turned to look at this group which looked so out of place. Phillip hadn’t exactly volunteered to be the one who dropped Henry off at university, jokeily proclaiming that as an Cambridge alumni he may be assassinated just setting foot in the city. It was meant to have been Bea or even his mother who accompanied him, but as the day had drawn closer it had become quite clear that neither where is a state to be seen in public. So here he was, standing next to Phillip.  
“Right” said Phillip, dressed as always in a suit and tie, “Your room is across the quad, shall we” the group made their way across, trying their best to ignore the phones being drawn and not so whispered voices of their passers by. 

There was a PPO stationed at the end of the corridor and as Henry entered from the stairs following Philip, the four men from earlier didn’t follow. The corridor was a craze of stressed parents and students reminding him of the start of term at Eton. Henry's room had already been sorted for him; the bed was made with his own sheets, his clothes folded neatly in the wardrobe and his books organised alphabetically on the shelves. There were two unpacked boxes left on his bed.  
“I think those are your more personal things”, Henry could tell from the tone of voice that Phillip was doing his hardest to refrain from making a comment comparing the room to his one at Cambridge, the gesture was appreciated. As Henry hovered somewhat awkwardly unsure of what to do a tense silence filled the air. 

“Look I know the last few months have been” he paused as if unsure of what he was saying, “well let's say tough, but I made some of the best memories at university and I’m sure you will too.” Phillip offered a small smile and then tousled Henry's hair in a way which reminded them both or their childhood. Phillip was just leaving the room when he paused and ever so slightly turned back “but just remember who you are Henry, especially with recent events it’s important at the moment.” with that he turned on his heel and left. 

The door swung closed behind him leaving Henry feeling ever more alone. 

The silence had not yet fully penetrated the room when the door opened once more this time a far more friendlier face peered round. 

“He has gone now hasn’t he” the quick and cheerful voice of Pez filled the room. “You know I’m scared of your brother don’t you” 

A small chuckle escaped from Henry quickly eliminating any tension. 

Pez continued, as always making up for Henry's quietness with his endless enthusiasm. 

“What’s your plan for the rest of today then? We need to register with the college and then, I think at about 4 there is an introduction talk and then dinner followed no doubt by our first exploration of Oxford's party scene.” 

“Look I may pass on the partying but how about we meet in 10 to go and register” 

Pez nodded affirmatively and turned to leave before exiting the door he hesitated 

“Maybe get changed into something slightly less formal, were not at Eton any more”

When Henry and Pez met for a second time, Henry had swapped his crisp white shirt for a burgundy one which he left untucked. They looked like a funny pair, Henry looking ever the image of conservatism contrasting Pez’s brightly coloured trainers paired with an open shirt and tightly fitted jeans looking as if he had walked straight out of Gucci. As they exited the corridor a PPO left his post at the doorway to follow them. An anxious mother bustled past them on the stair way only to turn around her mouth open, a puzzled expression on her face. As she started to talk Henry walked a bit quicker down the stairs forever grateful for the spiralling design keeping him hidden right now. 

They made their way towards the formal entrance hall of the college, Pez stopping to talk to all the students he recognised, Henry just waiting patiently by his side offering a smile to the conversations. The college principal was waiting next to a large leather brown book with yellowing pages. A warm smile filled his face as he recognised Henry approaching. 

“Your royal highness, it’s such a pleasure to have you studying with us” 

Henry snapped on the press smile and graciously shook the principal's hand. It was like flicking a switch for him, switching between Henry and Prince Henry, the trained royal decorum taking over. He was swiftly rescued from further conversation with the principal by a PPO who had been trailing behind them starting to discuss security measures. 

Pez picked up the black fountain pen which lay in the fold of the pages. It had a rounded design and as Pez uncapped the pen you could see a gold nib with the college insignia engraved on it. 

They shared a nervous glance between the two of them, for a moment Henry could see their thirteen year old sleeves reflected in the mirth of their similes. Pez went first signing his name in the same book of which thousands of students had done over the hundreds of years of the college's history. He turned and handed the pen to Henry. It felt strangely heavy in his hand, the light glinting off the wet ink where Pez had just signed. 

There was something rather anti climatic as he wrote his name in the copperplate handwriting drilled into him from birth.  
Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor  
He had expected something to happen, make this feel concrete, as if by signing his name he would feel as if he actually belonged here. He must have lingered over the page for just a moment too long as he could feel the concerned eyes of his best friend burning into him. Standing up and shaking the sinking imposter syndrome off. With his best press face on they two left the small cloister to gather armfuls of paperwork from the eagerly awaiting admin lady.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments on the last chapter.  
> This was written in a bit of a rush (read during a physics lesson) so hopefully it's alright.  
> The next few chapters are going to be a bit less detailed just containing freshers week stuff.

Armed with mountains of paperwork to fill in Henry and Pez headed back across the quad to their rooms. Pez seemed to have already made friends with half the college, as they stopped to make idle chat.  
It was just past 4 and the autumnal sun was starting to dip behind the college spires, bathing the quad in golden light.  
When the pair finally made their way back to their corridor Pez flopped himself dramatically on the bed, Henry's room was far too sterile claimed Pez, with Henry taking a seat in the desk chair. It was a familiar routine perfected many years ago at Eton. After fishing around in the already messy desk draw, he quickly located two pens, uncapping one for himself and throwing one over to Pez.  
They spent the rest of the afternoon together, locked away from the rest of the world. At some point a packet of jaffa cakes was opened and quickly finished between the two of them.  
At some point their comfortable silence was broken by an alarm going off. Pes quickly reached over to silence his phone. There was a split second of silence and then

“Oh shit, that was the alarm for dinner” he hastily left of the bed looking every inch disheveled. Jaffa cake crumbs hung off his shirt which was rumpled with ink stains on the sleeves. 

Henry stood up although unlike his partner still looking presentable and composed 

“No, no, no. Stay right where you are, this is an informal dinner” Pez pronounced the word informal slowly like a mother would to a young child “You are not going and getting changed, anyways I need your help choosing something” 

Henry hovered with his back pressed against the window as Pez’s room descended to another level of chaos, clothes being flung out of the wardrobe at all angles. This wasn’t an uncommon sight, ever since Pez returned from Paris fashion week in 4th form he had taken pride in constantly looking as if he had walked straight out of a catalogue. 

By the time Pez and stored himself to a manner which he deemed presentable, they were already running later for their first dinner. Luckily as they joined the throng of students crowding outside the great wooden doors of the main hall no one questioned their previous absence. 

After a few moments of nervous chatter the doors were opened and as the students crowded in, many gasps of amazement at the stunning architecture of the hall could be heard. 

Henry kept close to Pez as they winded through the crowd to find a place on one of the great oak tables. As the crowd started to thin with people sitting down, Henry could finally look around at the hall. The dark wooden paneling created a much warmer atmosphere than the cold walls of the formal dining halls at Buckingham Palace. Staring up at the portrait hanging above the fireplace opposite him, Henry was lost in thought trying to figure out who he was. 

“You alright” Pez finally finished with the excited chatter of the students sitting next to them and turned to see Henry lost in thought  
“what, sorry” Henry turned, his stream of thought broken, to see a concerned look on the face of his best friend. “Sorry, I was just comparing the architecture” a pause “I prefer the gothic style to the jacobean installed at Kensington” 

“You are such a nerd’ Pez playfully cuffed Henry around the head. 

The food that arrived was almost no different to what they would have expected back at Eton. Pez kept up a constant stream of chatter, making plans with other students to go out exploring Oxfords clubs after the welcome talk they had after dinner.  
Henry kept up a smile offering small snippets to the conversation when he was asked. In all honesty he couldn’t think of something he wanted less to do than go out clubbing. He knew Pez was trying his best to keep him occupied and busy but he hadn’t realised just how exhausting being at uni was going to be.  
At Eton, once all his classmates and teachers had signed NDAs, he had been able to be just another student but with this many people who he didn’t know around him Henry knew he couldn’t let the facade down.  
So here he was being the perfect press Prince Henry. 

In some ways he couldn’t have been more grateful when dinner finally ended and they all filled out into another room where the principle came in to address them. Now he wasn’t hidden behind students sitting opposite instead pushed near the front of the crowd. Henry could hear students whispering and pointing at him, there was no escaping the fact they knew who he was. 

The talk seemed to go on forever, as the principle droned on about the history of the college and the values to which it’s students must uphold. 

When the talk finally finished they filled out into the surprisingly crisp nights air. Pez pulled him aside to try and persuade him to go clubbing but had quickly realised he wouldn't be winning that. 

As Henry walked in the opposite direction to most students, back across to the rooms, he felt the cold night sinking into his thin shirt making him feel completely isolated. 

It was completely untrue, a PPO was only two meters behind him for a start, but the feeling was sinking in and cementing himself in his bones. 

He picked up his pace slightly, he could feel his heart racing, a slight sweat of the back of his neck picked up the chill in the wind. Ducking his head as he headed up the tightly spiralled staircase to his room. The corridor was oddly silent with the majority of students out clubbing. 

He hesitated for a second about going into Pez’s room, it was an old routine from Eton which he knew Pez would understand but the voice in his head told him not to be such a bother. 

On his bed lay the two brown boxes untouched from earlier. Something about the silence compelled him to do something other than push them in a corner. Opening the one nearest and crumpling up the brown paper on top he saw some envelopes, Beas neat cursive on the front of one. Below them lay bubble wrapped photo frames, pulling out the top one he saw the year group photo from the leavers ball at Eton.  
He hadn’t wanted to attend it, still numb from the shock of his fathers funeral, but a few stern words in his ear from the queen and he had no choice in the matter. Pez was there standing beside him, arm behind his back, as always, being Henry’s support system. 

Putting the frame aside quickly before he could lose himself in the memories he pulled out the next frame, a photo taken just after he scored the final goal to win Eton the interschools polo championship. He was being high fived by another member of his team whilst others were crowding around him to congratulate him. That was before everything came crashing down.  
The next few all contained snap shots of him and Pez or other etonian friends over the years. 

The final photo was grainier than the rest, taken at least 10 years earlier. As Henry pushed aside the bubble wrap he recognised the scenery as the beach near Balmoral where they used to have family holidays every year. Guessing from the quality of the photo Henry assumed it must have been Phillip taking the photo, the year photography was his passion.  
He first recognised Bea, her hair wild from the salty water, laughing with a brightness in her eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her so happy.  
His father looked so strong and carefree and he carried a young Henry through the surf on his shoulders.  
The image of his fathers cold frail body burned in Henry's head, memories of the last few days with him coming rushing back. 

Hands shaking he quickly covered the frame back in the bubble wrap and after wrapping another sweater around it placed it far away in the back of a drawer.  
He bit his lip to keep the tears brimming in his eyes from falling, it wasn’t helpful to get upset. As Philip always said, emotions can only hurt you if you let them.  
Having placed the rest of the photographs on the draw beside his bed, he cautiously opened the second box. A couple of knick-knacks were on top, pushing them to one side he saw a battered copy of Mansfield hall.  
Before he had even fully lifted it out of the box he could already recognise the second book. A battered cover only held together by tape, his fathers name printed in neat capitals across the top.  
The image of a crown and underneath the title - Hamlet  
Henry tried to suppress the emotions welling inside of him, still ripe from just moments ago. He tried but it was impossible like attempting to resist a tidal force and without him even knowing it all came crashing down. 

It must have been earlier the next morning when Pez knocked on the door, and let himself in. Smelling just like the club he had just returned from.  
Slowly he pried the book from Henry's hands, the pages fluttering open with the neat annotations in the margins catching his eye.  
Placing the book carefully on the desk opposite, he turned his attention to Henry. His whole body still shaking with tears long since run dry. 

There was nothing sexual in the way Pez cared for the grieving body, washing the salt tracks off his face and slowly changing his clothes into pajamas, and getting him into the small single bed.  
Leaving a glass of water by the bedside and turning the light off as he left, he could see the haunted face of his friend caught in the moonlight.  
He wished he knew something to do or to say, he wished he could do anything to make everything just a little bit easier for Henry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a happier chapter this time, hope you enjoy.  
> Do you guys prefer longer or shorter chapters..? Let me know..   
> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos - it always makes my day to see those notifications

6th October 2015 

If Pez hadn’t known Henry for the last five years he wouldn’t have been able to guess that anything was wrong that morning at breakfast. It was how he held himself just a little too upright, how his knuckles were starting to turn white as he put all his concentration into gripping his knife. 

It was early, just past 8, and the hall had just opened for students to start getting breakfast. Pez could tell from the still wet ends of Henry's hair that he must have been out running this morning.   
“You're up early” Pez said, knocking into Henry as he slipped into the bench beside him.  
“So are you”  
“Well old habits die hard” they both laughed at memories of running through the streets of Windsor to make it to morning chapel before the doors shut, or else ending up in tardy. 

As their laughter subsided, a tense silence settled over the pair. A kind almost unknown to Pez. He searched in his head for something to say. Each tick from the large tambour clock situated behind them seemed to echo across the nearly empty hall with the time between each one seeming to stretch on for far longer than a mere second. 

Before Pez had even had a chance to try and start a conversation, Henry had stood up from the oak bench “I’m going to head off, I’ve got a meeting with one of my tutors soon”. He looked anxious, fiddling with the signet ring on his finger. For a second, just a second, maybe not even a full second, his press mask slipped. Just for a second Pez could see the rawness of the pain displayed across his exhausted face. 

“Henry…” Pez started before catching the look in Henry’s eye, this wasn’t the time to bring up last night “Good Luck” he finished more decisively, trying to pass a smile across. 

___ 

It was surprisingly cold, despite the bright sunshine of the October morning. As Henry walked across the quad, a cold breeze hit him unexpectedly, he pulled up the collar of the navy jacket he was wearing.

The simple action brought back fond memories of watching BBC Sherlock back in the common room of the boarding house at Eton. He remembered hearing some other students talking about the series at some point, maybe season 3 was being released soon. It was something to look up later. 

Lost in thought Henry was almost at the other side of the quad before he looked up and realized he had no idea where to go. After entering the building he stood staring at the maze of stairs and the many identical doors. 

‘If you don’t mind me saying, your highness, but the office of Prof. McDonald is on the second floor, first door on your right, if you take the staircase on the left’ 

Henry jumped slightly at the sound, turning abruptly to see a familiar face of Shaan. Relief flooded across his face, Shaan had been on his security team for almost 10 years now. 

“Thank you, I haven't seen you recently” Henry felt rather guilty that he hadn’t recognised Shaan’s presence yet. So caught up in pushing away the memories from last night, this morning had been such a blur that he hadn’t acknowledged any of the PPOs this morning. 

Shaan seemed to recognise the guilt portrayed across Henry's face. “If you remember, sir, I have been on leave for the last two weeks. I arrived last night and after a morning brief we swapped shifts whilst you were eating breakfast. Now if you want to arrive to your meeting on time I suggest you hurry as it is currently 8.56 and you need to be there for 9 prompt” 

Henry was swamped by the feeling of gratefulness of his PPO. He knew to some they were just security detail and PAs but he knew that without them, Shaan in particular, there was no way he would have survived the last six months. 

He didn’t know exactly what to say, there was no way to say in words how thankful he was. 

Feeling like a cat had caught the metaphorical mouse of his voice was exactly how he wanted to be feeling before meeting his English tutor. His pulse was racing, anxiously trying to think through the details of this tutor, which he had been researching early this morning. 

Before he was truly aware he was facing the door, a small white name plate told him he was exactly where he needed to be. His watch face told him he was exactly on him. 

Deep breaths. In and out. Reminding himself to breath through the nerves. Calm and collected the face of a Prince, Henry lifted the bronze rapper to knock gently on the old oak door. Before the sound had even finished reverberating through the dense oak, a voice called out “Come in.” 

The room was smaller than expected, the walls overflowing with books, with a large window looking out over the quad framing a messy desk. In front of it stood youngish man, outwardly fitting the perfect stereotype of an english professor. 

As the door shut behind Henry, Shaan waiting faithfully outside, the man in front of him seemed to spring to life. Reminding Henry of a performance of Coppelia. “Your highness, it’s such a pleasure.. “ 

“Henry please, or Wales. Just whatever you call the other students” Henry interrupted the introduction. This is exactly what he had wanted to escape by coming to university, would he ever be able to be just Henry without being a Prince first. 

Thankfully despite looking slightly taken aback, the tutor adjusted his introduction. The meeting was short, Henry left with an essay to write and a list of books to read. The rest of his day followed a similar pattern. It seemed that the other staff members had gotten the message that he didn’t want to be addressed as royal procedure dictates and instead as he met his other three tutors they all started with Henry or Wales. 

By 4.30 he headed back to his room with four essays and a list of books to read longer than one of Phillips' lists on proper royal actions. 

He had just wanted to flop on his bed and attempt to catch at least a few minutes of sleep before heading down to dinner, but it was not to be. 

He arrived to find the corridor in chaos, everyone had moved pillows and cushions out of their rooms. He had had to step over at least three people's belongings to even get near his room. That was when Pez spotted him. 

Pez had been animatedly chatting to some other students when he saw Henry and came bounding over. Following Henry into the small room he was letting the door slowly close behind them when he saw the kettle plugged in on top of a chest of draws. 

“Henry, you are a godsend. The solution to all our problems” He exclaimed excitedly. Grasping the kettle, he hurried out of the room. Henry couldn’t quite hear what Pez said to the crowd outside but a cheer went up. 

As Pez reentered the room in a flurry of action, he saw the confused look of Henry's face and took a moment to explain. “Giles was talking to another student who attends LMH and they said that they had a tradition of having tea as a corridor, however the slight issue was that”

“Christ church has no student kitchens” Henry interrupted, starting to understand why his kettle was involved in all of this. 

“Exactly, we were going to do down to the Junior Common Room, but the floor above have already done that so we were rather stuck” 

“And so now you wish to use my kettle, tea bags and milk” Henry finished for him. 

A nod of confirmation came, then a pause as if it took a moment for the words to fully penetrate. 

“Wait, how do you have milk? Or a kettle for that matter. I thought any plug in kitchen devices where on the strictly prohibited list”

“Perks of being a prince, I guess” Henry answered in a shrug “that way no one can attempt a royal poisoning before I’ve had my morning tea” 

Pez clapped him on the back before hesitating once again. “I can take the kettle to my room if you wish..” 

He had started to trail off when Henry interrupted him “no it’s fine. Let's make everyone tea!” 

___  
After having made enough tea to please what seemed to like the entirety of the british empire.   
“Black, one sugar” he passed the cup over to a girl sitting with her back to the window. 

“My god, your accent” she couldn’t seem to stop herself giggling as she took the cup. “I’m sorry, my ma’am would kill me for my manners right now, but” 

Henry hovered beside her, unsure if he was involved in a conversation and thus walking away would appear rude but at the same time she was helplessly giggling potentially at him at the current moment. 

Seeming to notice that he was still standing next to her, she threw aside a cushion and patted for Henry to sit down next to her. 

“I can’t believe that the literal prince just made me tea” She paused as if reflecting on the last few sentences “I didn’t even expect you to know how to use a kettle” 

“I also know how to make a bed” Henry replied unsure of where this conversation was going. Her accent was definitely northern, right now he wished he had paid a bit more attention to the lesson of accent identification drilled into him before royal tours many years ago. 

“I couldn’t believe it when I was even offered an interview here, let alone a place. And then to get in, and now a prince. A literal fucking prince. Just made me tea” She had finally stopped the hysterical laughing and instead was simply shaking her head in disbelief. 

Henry was unsure where this was leading to, glancing his eyes across the room he caught the eye of Pez who was already looking at Henry. 

Thankfully Pez came to his rescue, moving to sit down next to the pair. “Henry, I see you have met Lelia, she is on my history of art course” 

And so they stayed eventually joining in on a game of uno with all the other students. The sun had dipped behind the horizon by the time they remembered ro head off to dinner. Tonight dinner was far more fun than previously. The group left as a cohort taking up almost a whole table, conversations continuing from earlier. Henry kept involved as the conversation turned to a debate on the merits of Dante vs Milton. 

It was a far longer dinner with bottles of red being passed around to match with the steak and kidney pie served. As the evening progressed many talked of heading to the JCR for a quiz afterwards. Henry had been planning to slip off quietly to one side before this event but as he tried to slip away his arm was firmly grasped by the girl from earlier   
“You are not going anywhere, I bet you’ll know everything” she paused looking at her hand on Henry's arm and the shocked expression on Henry's face. “I am allowed to touch you, I’m not about to get arrested or thrown in a dungeon am I?” 

There was something about the carefree attitude she carried with her that reminded Henry of a younger Bea. Once again he caught Pez monitoring him from across the hall. There was no backing out now. With a laugh he told Lelia not to worry and they sprinted a few strides to catch up the other students. 

The next few hours were filled with bottles of red, snuck out of the dinning hall, being passed around as they collapsed a mess of limbs onto the old sofas. Henry lived up to the exception of winning most of the general knowledge section. It was another student who finished up on top by naming the Premier League winners and naming all the team members for the last 25 years. 

It was only just midnight as they staggered up back to the corridor which looked as if a bomb had gone off. Henry spotted his mug still half full by the window with an empty packet of jaffa cakes next to it. The good nights continued for at least another half and hour as everyone procrastinated shutting themselves back in their solitary rooms away from the intoxicating warmth given by the closely gathered crowd. 

Henry could hear the clock striking one as he finally collapsed into his bed. Tiered both mentally and physically but for the first time in months there was something warm inside, a feeling of comradery of belonging. He slept for seven hours that night, it was the first time in anyone's memory.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos you guys are leaving on the story - getting the email notifications saying I've got a comment is one of the nicest things. Do you guys prefer longer or shorter chapters?

7th October 2015 

It was a similar scene to the previous morning as Pez walked into the dining hall to see Henry once again sitting, hair slightly disheveled leaving evidence of an early morning run, eating his breakfast. 

There was however a striking difference, today Henry was not alone but instead sitting making conversation with a couple of the other students from last night. It was definitely Prince Henry Pez could see sitting there, his posture perfect, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes but nevertheless unwavering. 

_________

Just before 11.30 the group of undergraduates were sitting together in the same room they had become accustomed to over the last few days. Henry found it interesting to see how friendship groups and alliances had already started to develop. It was the same as what had happened at the start of each term at Eton.   
The nervous excitement that had filled the room when they first filled it a few days prior had left instead a relaxed chatter continued. As the principle of the college stepped up to the podium there was an almost immediate hushing. He cleared his throat, surprisingly his voice carried across to all 270 members. 

The talk was overall quite short, simply outlining the events of the next few days. They were all starting to prepare to leave when something the principal said something that caught Henry’s attention. 

“and keep a lookout in your emails for details of your college parents” 

No one else seemed to even take particular notice of the causal statement. College parents were a commonly known tradition, something that happened to every fresher. Henry knew it was all just good will and to help you settle in but as the principal read it out it just didn’t feel right. 

He was still caught up in thought as they filtered out of the hall. Pez located him standing to the edge of the crowd, it took Henry a moment to realise he was talking to him, asking if he was alright. Pushing the swirling thoughts aside, now wasn’t the time to deal with him, he put on the mask of the prince reassuring him that he was fine. 

It didn’t reassure Pez who had known Henry far too long to fall for his facade. Pez also knew Henry wasn’t one to admit anything when pressured. So the two of them headed out following the stream of students out of the college towards city center. 

As they approached the student union building they could see hundreds of students milling around. For the first time the students from all different colleges could see each other. As they mingled through the crowds heading towards the entrance, the PPOs kept close. Fortunately for Henry they fitted in amongst the mix of pupils and no one gave him a second look. 

A burly man was stopping students as they entered, checking to make sure they had the appropriate wristbands. Before Henry had even started to pull up his jacket sleeve the man had made eye contact with one of the PPOs letting Henry through.

Inside was the definition of organised chaos, Pez had long since abandoned his side in order to find the drama society stand. There were over 400 different societies at Oxford, almost all of them represented in some way here. From his slight vantage point at the edge of the hall Henry could see a large gathering near the law society stand, glancing around he tried to locate either the polo or yachting stands. 

Instead a large french flag flying in the corner caught his eye. It had been his dream to come here and study french and english, it was decided against by certain members of his family. At the time he couldn’t believe it, why should someone else get to decide what he would be studying, compared to the last few months it was nothing. Maybe that was why Phillip had turned into such a robot, it was easier to be numb and accept than try to fight against and fail. 

Being royal was about being detached, always cool, calm and in complete control. 

Ignoring the tug, the small part of him which longed to go and imdeiatly sign up for french society, he re-focused his eyes searching for the polo stand. It didn’t take too long and within half an hour he had signed up for both polo and yachting, both agreed suitably proper activities. Given the dates for team trials and unable to locate Pez he headed out on his own. 

It was just past two, Henry was just about to go and grab some lunch before returning to college when a familiar voice called out his name. 

“Henry, nice to see you. I came back early this term in hopes of catching you” the clipped voice of Francis Keswick made Henry abruptly turn around. 

Henry immediately recognised the face of one of Phillips' oldest friends. A firm handshake and a quick exchange of pleasantries later and it became clear what Francis’s intentions were. 

“Look Henry, there’s a group of us who meet every once in a while, all respectable young men. We’re meeting next Sunday to celebrate the start of term, and if you were interested in joining we would welcome you. New Hall at Magdalen” 

The two exchanged a nod and headed their separate ways. Henry knew exactly what the club Francis was talking about was, Phillip had been a member of the Pitt Club the Cambridge equivalent. Henry knew he would be expected to join, his memory flashing back to the painfully long car journey down here with Phillip. At the same time Henry remembered back to September last year, god that felt a million years ago, where a far more carefree Henry dreamt with Pez a world where they escaped to Oxford to rebel against the stereotypes. 

Those carefree dreams were a long time ago. Henry bit down on his lip remembering the conversation with Phillip, without his father, with Bea going off the rails, with his mother no longer being seen, it was up to them to be the perfect image of the crown. 

This club was filled with etonians, of people who knew what it was like having a reputation to uphold. Going to the club was the safe option, to revert to a shell the prototype Prince. 

Without realising it Henry was back within the safety of Christ Church. Collapsing in the most undignified manner on his bed he allowed himself exactly thirty seconds to relax before remembering the three essays due within a week. It has been over three months since Henry last did anything academic related, this wasn’t going to be fun. With a groan he pulled his reluctant body towards his desk and opened word. 

__________________________________________ 

Pez hadn’t seen much of Henry since they left Eton. To be exact the last time he saw Henry before the start of Oxford had been the leavers ball. He hadn’t even come in on results day instead a royal courier had picked the envelope up. 

Pez understood, Henry had spent the whole summer on a royal tour of mourning. What Pez didn’t understand was why Henry had ignored every message he had sent for over three months now. Pez had never lost anyone, he had no idea what Henry was going through but he hated seeing how Henry walled himself off from even him. 

In a final act of desperation he pulled out his phone searching through the contact until he saw Bea. Pez had never really known Bea. Phillip had been a few years above them at Eton so Pez had seen him many times throughout the years. On the other hand Bea had been at Benenden School a full time boarder like him and Henry meaning Pez could count on one hand the number of times he had met her. However he knew from late night chats in dorm rooms at Eton with Henry that he was close to his sister. 

He didn’t know if it was really his place to talk to his best friend's sister who he didn’t even know, but he was worried about Henry and knowing his place had never stopped him before. 

Hi Bea, Pez here. I hope you are well, or as well as you can be. I do hope this doesn’t disturb you however I am worried about your brother. He seems to be isolating himself, maybe you could check in on him or at least send someone to. 

The message was brief but hopeful it would do the job, puting it out of his mind Pez left with a crowd from the drama society. They spent a wild afternoon performing Shakespeare speeches in uni parks. 

_________________________________________ 

Henry had almost started getting somewhere with his essay when he heard a knock on his door. There was almost one person that could be, glancing up from the computer to call Pez in he noticed the dark window looking back at his computer screen to see that it was already 6.30. 

“Hey, you don’t happen to have a starched collar going spare” the guilty voice carried through. Henry stood up stretching like a cat as Pez stood in his doorway, propping the door open with his Italian leather loafers. 

“Seriously”

“I forgot to pack one and I’m not burning a historical building down attempting to learn now”

“It’s been five years and you never remember to have a starched collar” 

Henry shook his head ruefully and turned back into his room to sort through his perfectly organised wardrobe to find the drawer where his collars were kept. 

“Wait a second what on earth do you mean starched collars” a new voice which Henry didn’t recognize interrupted his meticulous search. 

Pez answered, the tone indicating that he knew who he was talking to “you know, as it’s our first formal dinner tonight”

“No, I know that. Why are you talking about adding a baking ingredient to your shirts” 

“Well it’s evening dress isn’t it” Pez’s voice changed, now sounding rather bored. 

There was no response for a while. Triumphantly Henry pulled out the box containing six starched collars, handing one to Pez he turned to the new boy. Recognising him from the tea the previous afternoon, he enquired if he would like to borrow him. Before he had gotten an answer Pez interrupted. 

“Do I wear my new Gucci waistcoat under my marengo jacket or that yellow waistcoat I got at New York fashion week and my aegean jacket. Have you seen the Gucci one yet, I think you would find it positively… “

“Why the fuck would you have a waistcoat on” Jacob, thats what his name was Henry remembered, interupted sounding tense. 

“Well it’s white tie” Henry answered this time 

“That's what he said last time, what the fuck even is white tie.. Isn’t it just a suit” 

Henry and Pez shared a look, they looked at Jacob and then looked at each other again. Pez reached out talking Jacobs' elbow and led him back to his room. The door slowly shut and Henry looked at his open wardrobe. He hadn’t had to wear white tie in a while. 

He reached for the familiar black burberry tailcoat jacket. He should have had it replaced by now, the cuffs were starting to look worn but once he slipped it on he was reminded why he loved it so much. It was light and fit him like a glove, it was the first suit that hadn’t needed tailoring when he tried it. 

Quickly getting changed, doing up the bow tie as deftly as tying his shoelaces. Looking up at himself in the mirror, for a moment it looked just like he was back at Eton. 

Opening the door and walking out into the corridor, hoping to find Pez, he was greeted by a shouting match coming from a pair standing at the other end of the corridor. 

“I give up, this is impossible” 

“You didn’t get into oxford to be defeated by a tie”

“It’s not a tie, it’s a ancient weapon of torture” 

Just as Henry started to progress down the hall to see if he could help, Pez stuck his head out of his door. 

“Ahhh..”

Once again glancing at Henry they pair headed down to assist.   
“Can we be of any help, gentlemen?” Pez’s tone conveyed a light, jokey manner which Henry wished he could do. “Here let me do it” 

In a quick movement Pez tied the other boys bow tie making sure it was straight. Henry took the initiative and did the same to the other boy. 

“How… just how” Henry opened his mouth to answer but he was waved down “no I get why you would know, but your not royal why would an ordinary civilian know how to tie one of these things'' 

“I am particularly insulted at being called ordinary” Pez mocked an action of being stabbed. “but to answer your question it was a part of our school uniform*” 

“Very funny, look I know leamington spa secondary wasn’t anything fancy but school where you wear this” he waved his hands down at the set up tailcoat, waistcoat, starched shirt and bow tie “for school”

“Yes we did” 

Henry couldn’t help but laugh at the indignant tone in Pez’s voice. Noticing the glare he was getting from both sides, he quickly pulled up a google search of Eton college uniform and clicking on the first image he tossed his phone to the other boy. 

“See” 

“Where the fuck did you to school, you all look like complete nounces. No offence” he added on hastily. 

“Eton college” Pez answered, finally sounding triumphant. 

The phone was tossed back to Henry. By this time everyone else had filled out into the hall. Everyone had seemed to take different interpretations of white tie, Pez couldn’t help but wolf whistle as he saw one girl's floor length navy blue deep necked McQueen dress. 

As they headed down the stairs to the dinning hall, Henry and Pez side by side it felt just like the good old times. 

Pez elbowed good naturedly into Henry “do you remember when we were little F-Tits and spent the whole of our first evening in school in the Dames flat learning how to tie a tie properly” 

Henry snorted at the memory, “except you never actually learned and then an older boy pulled your tie undone and after being caught by a teacher and given a dress offence you had to spend a whole weekend in uniform”

“Oh shut up, I was thirteen” 

The laughter of the two carried off into the cold night air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * so I know that Etons uniform isn't actually white tie but it basically is and for the fact of good writing it works.   
> I just want to make it clear that I'm not trying to offend anyone by saying people without upper class upbrings wouldn't know much about white tie - I'm just trying to write something kind of funny and in a lot of cases true.   
> Also let me know if all the oxford stuff makes sense, I know it doesn't work the same as some other unis.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in getting this out - I've had exams so it's all been a bit chaotic. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos they are always very appreciated.

The rest of the week passed as a blur.  
Thursday was filled with introductory lessons. There were three other people in Henry's tutorial; a boy, Charles, Henry recognised from matches against Winchester, another boy who looked up to the two of them as if they were literal gods. Henry wondered if others ever thought of him and Pez in that way. Finally there was a girl who hadn’t even recognised Henry, she was french, there was something in the way she laughed just a little bit too loud that meant as Henry walked back across the quad, he couldn’t get her image out of his head. 

He didn’t have long to try and place what she reminded him of as he was due in a library induction in just a few moments. 

The library at Christ Church was jaw dropping, pinterest worthy from every angle. The building which housed it was stunning enough but in contrast to the more traditional library the inside was light and airy, white bookshelves housing thousands of books stretched on for miles. 

After the brief induction with the librarian Henry decided to stay and get to work on one of his essays. By the time evening had rolled around the library was almost empty, so were the halls when Henry arrived back there. Most students had headed out into town to hit the clubs. 

There was something peaceful about the silence, somehow all the usual sounds from old buildings were absent. Henry stood in the window of his room looking out over the quad, dimly illuminated in the dark night. Everywhere he had lived there had always been background noise all night long, it was either the clatter of staff in the halls of Kensington or the chatter of boys at Eton. Standing here letting the silence wash over him he finally felt the anxiety flow out of his body. 

After spending a few precious moments simply enjoying the peace of the silence in the dark Henry pulled out his phone from his jacket pocket. 

Henry had never been one to spend large periods of time on his phone. He wasn’t allowed to keep any social media accounts and growing up at boarding school had meant he never really needed a mobile for communication. He was still surprised to see no new notifications. Throughout their childhoods he and Bea had always kept a tradition of sending each other funny quotes of interactions from their day. 

To the outside world they had all been fine since their father passed. Bea had supposedly returned to St Andrews a month before he left for Oxford. Only Henry knew that Bea was currently under lockdown at Balmoral after almost being caught blackout drunk outside a pub by the press. 

Henry knew Bea was suffering, she has been the closest to their dad out of all of them. Henry also knew that Bea wasn’t telling him something. She had always been the bedrock of his life, always there always Bea. Recently she hadn’t been his Bea. Pushing his worries aside for another day.  
Henry set about organising his time table ready for full studies to begin next week. 

____________________________________________________________________  
There was an excited chatter at brunch on Sunday morning, the majority of second and third year students had by now returned making the hall far fuller than any of the freshers had seen before. 

Pez hadn’t seen much of Henry over the last few days. Glancing around the room he couldn’t spot the familiar blonde hair nor could he see any PPOs around the edges. His text to Bea had gone unanswered, maybe it was just his brotherly overprotectiveness of Henry but Pez was starting to worry. 

Pez excused himself from brunch and headed back up to their corridor to try and find Henry. It was only when he was greeted with an empty room that he realised that for the first time in his life he had no idea where to find his best friend. At Eton they had been inseparable and even when apart they had had each other's time tables memorized so they could always find each other. How was it that in just a few short months their relationship had managed to change so drastically. 

________________________________________________________________________  
Henry had in fact spent the morning trying out for the sailing team. An early 6am departure from the college to arrive at the reservoir for 7. Pulling up in the sleek black vehicle Henry couldn’t help but notice the looks coming from other members spilling out of a small red toyota. 

The situation had been awkward to say the least when Henry had found out they would all be needing to get changed in one shared room. At least one of the other members had made a snarky remark of it not being good enough for a prince. That wasn’t how Henry had wanted to come across, he so wanted to apologise to have the gift of making a quick easy joke in response. That wasn’t a skill children of the crown were trained in, instead he pushed his chin up and ignored the others. He quickly pulled on his wetsuit in the damp corner of the old changing rooms. 

There were twelve small dinghies lined up on the concrete beach, the boast instantly recognisable as fireflies. The small two man boats were the same as the boats Henry had sailed whilst on the team at Eton. 

As the group paired up ready to head out onto the lake Henry felt himself being left in an awkward situation. That was until the boy from his english tutorial came along and asked if he would like to partner. Henry wished he could say no, he wanted to make friends for people who cared about him for more than his status but at this point in time there was nothing he could do. 

He had to admit they sailed well together as a pair, for more than three hours the captain and instructor had them running drill up and down the reservoir. Tacking then jibing then sailing into the wind forcing them to work the boat. Underneath Henry’s wetsuit he felt his skin starting to prickle with sweat, he knew his face would be red from the exertion but the ache in his arms was worth it as they tacked once more, with the wind in their sail the boat heeling the wind blowing through his hair. 

Sharing a smile with Charles who was at the tiller, both of them exhausted from the physical effort demanded but sharing the knowledge that they had come head and shoulders above the rest of the trailers. 

Finally they had been called into land, sailing in with the wind behind them for the first time they could relax. 

“Are you coming to the dinner tonight?” Charles’s voice carried on the wind. 

“What dinner” Henry's response was quick, in reality he knew exactly which dinner Charles was talking about; he just wanted to avoid the conversation topic. 

“Oh, I thought you would have been invited” Charles stuttered out the response in a manner so pitiful in comparison to his usual confident disposition that Henry felt compelled to put him out of his state.

“No, of course I know. New Hall, Magdalen. You need to be more careful talking about it though” Henry hated adding that last part in, he hated the whole thing but it was what was expected of a prince. 

Charles’s eyes widened in a way which reminded Henry of a puppy. A part of Henry so desperately wanted to jump right into the disgusting murky waters below the bow of the boat. Luckily he was saved from any further conversation as they quickly had to remove the daggerboard as they came into the beach. 

The arrid tenseness of the changing rooms was luckily avoided this time around as the piping hot showers were so noisy and created so much steam that each member was practically isolated whilst changing. 

Back in the safety behind the tinted windows of the vehicle Henry hesitated on weather to call Bea. As far as he was aware she had avoided being involved in this type of society during her time so far at St Andrews, although that could have been because they were usually only male. He missed her far more than he would admit to anyone. The phone was flipped anxiously in his hands for the remainder of the journey but he never called Bea, not wanting to bother her. 

_______________________________________________________________________

The slow hours of the afternoon dragged on as Henry tried to muddle his way through a heavy translation of Beowulf. He could feel the pressure of a migraine building behind his eyes but the rhetoric of just one line more kept him going. 

The cup of tea made many hours ago sat going cold in a corner of his desk. The usual military standard tidiness of his room had been overturned as papers seeming to be overflowing out of each folder were spread haphazardly everywhere. 

The progression of the afternoon could be easily observed through the steady decline in Henry’s handwriting. 

The notes of translating Beowulf contained his usual textbook perfect copperplate handwriting, the scribbles of ideas thrown across a piece of scrap paper would have been illegible even to the top decoders at MI5. 

This essay shouldn’t have been that bad, it was just an introductory one, the text he had chosen to compare with he had studied in both English and latin. Henry wanted to blame the glare of the white screen with the flashing cursor mocking him everytime he wrote and them deleted a sentence. 

He knew it wasn’t the essay that was difficult but it was the first essay, there was something in the culmination of the stress of the last few months that made him want this essay to be perfect.

To prove something. 

What exactly he wasn’t quite sure, the hours dragged on feeling like minutes. The essay progressed painfully each sentence being extracted, feeling clunky and mismatched. 

Henry had been lost in his own world when a knock on the door cut through fishing him back into reality.  
“Your Highness. Sorry to disturb you but you requested earlier that I reminded you at 6.45 to prepare to leave for dinner at 7. We have a car waiting by the Broad Walk entrance.” 

Thanking whoever it was who decided that royals need more than a security detail but instead people to constantly help prop up the illusion of being perfectly in control. 

Henry could see his disheveled reflection in the mirror, even he could see the toll of the last few months. His skin was drawn tightly across his face, it’s paleness made the bags under his eyes even more pronounced. He’d lost weight and even as he slipped into his tailor fit suit it hung, just slightly, from his hips. Looking at himself he wasn’t even sure if he believed the press smile anymore. There wasn’t time to be getting stuck on these things, checking that he was dressed suitably for the dinner he left, his phone still under a pile of papers. 

Walking across the quad to where a sleek black car was waiting to take him the short journey across town was waiting Henry wished he would be interrupted by Pez. Saved from the fate he had walked so easily into. But Pez was out, enjoying dinner and drinks with the large groups of friends he had already accumulated in the first week. Henry knew it was wrong to feel bitter, especially as he had declined every opportunity to go out into town and as Pez put it ‘have some fun’ but he enveyed the freedom his friend could hold. 

Driving up to the entrance of Magdalen college Henry could the evidence of the awaiting guests. Cash had insisted on Henry having more security than he usually had around college to the event, he didn’t blame him, it carried a certain precedent. 

He was guided by a porter through a maze of passageways and staircases, as they proceeded further into the fortress-like building, he felt reassured by the three security members flanking him. It didn’t last for long and within a matter of minutes he had come into a large, well lit room. Green velvet stood contrasted with the hardwood paneling but before he had even taken in his surroundings a glass of champagne was thrusted into his hands. 

The cold crystal felt heavy in his hand which he hadn’t even realised was clammy. Looking up to see Charles’s excited face  
“You know I didn’t actually believe you were going to come” 

“Well a Prince had appearances to keep” the slight drawl of one raised in a country estate announced the entrance of someone else into the room. Henry looked up, making eye contact with a familiar face. 

“Grey, I thought you were spending a year in Russia” 

“Well when I heard that his royal highness was coming to Oxford, I simply couldn’t just leave. It’s nice to see you Wales, or would it be the whole mouthful now” 

Charles looked as though he was about to wet himself in excitement, being in the presence of two members of some of the oldest families in England. Edward Grey becconned the pair into the main room. It was clear as they stepped in that Charles had been waiting outside for Henry. 

In total there were nine of them standing around a mahogany table. Seven of them were dressed in a matching uniform dress of white tie and tails, it reminded Henry of Eton. They each had a crystal flute in hand brimming with what Henry guessed was Moet. 

Standing there Henry saw himself as Phillip, a perfect representation of the unwavering british monarchy. He contemplated, releasing may be losing himself to become the image, to lose all emotion and care and simply be a puppet who pleased, maybe that wouldn't be so bad. 

He was still lost in thought as the group raised the glass, what took Henry by surprise was the action of smashing the glasses on the ground after. Allowing himself to be controlled, like a puppet, Henry followed suit earning a cheer from those gathered. He felt hollow inside, in a way that not even the indulgent ten bird roast could satisfy. 

They spent an evening talking of summers spent on yachts, villas in tuscany and chateaus in france. The conversation always steered around politics, Henry knew it was because of his attendance. He doubted it would stay that way in future. 

In comparison to what he expected the whole experience was rather contained. Full of extravagance and luxury, of over indulgence and simple waste of money but nothing which gave Henry an easy reason to hate them outright just yet. 

He kept waiting for the comment or the action to show him just how ludicrously backwards the ideals of this club was but as they spent in early hours of the morning discussing polo, it never came. 

Arriving back at the halls just after two, Henry found Pez waiting for him. Seeing his dress and the remains of cream splattered on the collar after being carelessly tossed around the expensive clothing, Pez knew exactly where Henry had spent the evening. Henry didn’t want to have this argument with his friend, waving past him, not pausing long enough to see the hurt flicker on Pez’s face, they went their separate ways.


End file.
